In which
by TheZeldakid101
Summary: Ed dies. A lot. Should I say much else? It's me killing Ed/Ed dying ten times in ten different ways. Uh... Angst galore, maybe a couple tissue boxes in the last five chapters, Ed dying, other warnings at the start of the chapter. Current chapter: In which Ed doesn't know when why or how, he just wants it to freaking stop... T for death, occasional blood, and angst.
1. Chapter 1

**I have now infiltrated the FMA part of this site and inserted a nearly-lethal injection of what I call the 10xDeath Syndrome into Edward. I shall now proceed to kill him 10 times with 10 different methods/themes/whatevers. This is also a school project, but no one wants to hear about that except my teacher. Anyways, there's 10 ways I thought of to kill Ed and this is number one - the romantic-type death in which Character A dies with character B at his/her side. In this case it's Ed and Winry. This can take place in either Brotherhood or the original, I don't really make these for one universe or the other. But this happens at some point when Lust and Gluttony are alive and it doesn't necessarily fit in canon. Duh, because Ed dies.**

 **I don't own FMA and I'm sorry if any of these ten chapters make anyone need another tissue box. Enjoy!**

Death Type 01

It was one word, one syllable, and it pounded on the inside of her skull and made itself known in every part of her body, constantly beating out its single syllable alongside the rapid pumping of her blood through her aching heart.

No.

No, no, no, no.

Winry finally reached the right floor, panting slightly (having been in too much of a rush to wait for the elevator, she had taken the stairs), only stopping for a moment to catch her breath before charging down the hall.

No, no, no.

Not Ed.

Not _her_ Ed, not the short blond kid that somehow always made her laugh when she was sad or cheer up when she was mad. Not her Ed, the one that loved his country so much he went out of his way in his own quest to save their lives. Not her Ed, her selfless, occasionally selfish, loveable, sometimes serious and sometimes funny Ed, not her Ed, the one she had never confessed to because she thought she'd always have time.

But yes, it was her Ed, and she was going to see him one last time.

Winry pushed open the door to room 303 to see a small crowd of blue uniforms and one suit of armor surrounding the hospital bed. Actually, it was just Alphonse who was next to the bed, and everyone else (only five people - Roy, Riza, Jean, Kain, and Heymans) was either sitting or standing, lost in their thoughts. Roy had his eyes closed and his fingers laced together under his chin, either trying to ignore the scene or getting lost in his unpleasant thoughts. Riza stood next to his chair, a hand on his shoulder, and the other three men were standing together and whispering in low but concerned voices.

When Winry opened the door, everyone but Mustang looked up. She must have had an urgent look in her eyes or something because they all looked at one another, nodded, and left, leaving just the three teenagers in the room.

The blond girl ran to Ed's bedside, saying his name a couple times, but she stopped short when she saw him.

Al held his metal hand on the other side of the bed, but Ed's left hand and arm were resting on his chest, unmoving. His skin was paler than Winry ever remembered it being, his eyes were closed, and there were bandages around his head and most likely his chest as well. His hair hadn't been pulled up, probably due to the pressure pulling it back would put to the areas around the wound on his head.

"Ed!" Winry said, more like choked out, taking his cold left hand in both of hers. "Ed, it's me, Winry!"

Ed's eyes opened, and she was never more relieved to see them do so since just then. "Win...ry.." He said, the words soft and slurred, as if he was trying to speak without moving his lips too much. "You came out here for me?"

Winry nodded, blinking furiously to hold back tears. "Of course! If you ever went to a hospital and Al and I weren't with you, you'd probably freak out like during the automail surgery."

Ed managed a small laugh. Winry noticed the IV in his left arm and the heart monitoring machine next to Alphonse - this was more serious than she thought if they had given him needles and shots even though Al knew about his opinions about them. "Probably."

Winry directed her next question to the blond's little brother. "What happened?"

Al looked down while he spoke. "Brother and I were out on the edge of Central when two Homunculi attacked us - Colonel Mustang explained them to you, right?"

Winry nodded, beginning to piece together what happened but still wanting to hear it from the Elrics' own mouths.

Ed squeezed her hand, directing her attention back to his golden eyes. "Al got occupied with Gluttony and I had to fight Lust by myself... She stabbed me twice..."

Her grip around his hand tightened. "So you're dying?"

"Probably."

"No, no, no!" She yelled, finally speaking the words her head had been screaming. "You can't die! Not now! We haven't even turned 16 yet!"

Ed smiled, presumably at her stubborn protests. "We can't really stop it now, Win. But you didn't come all the way here to tell me I can't die yet. What did you really want to tell me?"

Winry stopped for a moment, her hands going slack and her eyes widening slightly. Ed squeezed her right hand again, and she squeezed back. Al let go of his prosthetic hand and he reached it over to hold her hands with both of his. There was a smile in his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure I know."

Winry smiled. As she did so, she finally let her tears begin to fall, though even she didn't know whether they were sad, happy, or angry. "Yeah." Then, "Now you can't die! Not when I just find out the feelings are mutual!"

Ed glanced at the heart monitoring machine. "I don't have much time left regardless. My heart rate's going down even now."

Winry started openly sobbing. "What do I do? I've always been hopeless and had to just wait for you. I can't ever do anything, even when you're dying, I still can't do anything to help! I'm just waiting again!"

Al stood and left, but even the clanking of his armor didn't penetrate Winry and Ed's conversation.

"It feels like you're useless, but you're the reason why I ever get up again."

Winry looked up. Ed was smiling again, and it was enough to distract her from the fact that his breathing was more uneven and forced. "If you didn't always come to repair my automail, how would I get around? And besides that, whenever I feel like I'm going to die, I just remember you and how I need to get back to Resembool to see you again. So you help me get back up in both ways."

She laughed, finally squeezing back and letting their hands fall to the bedsheets instead of hanging in the air. "Thanks. I love you."

"Me too."

Winry had to lean in to hear the words - he had suddenly got so much more weak and quiet. Was he dying now? No! She had already told herself she wouldn't let him die! But his hand (the flesh one) was getting cold...

"No, don't leave, Ed!" Winry cried, brushing his bangs out of his face and stroking his cheek as he lay bedridden. "You can't die yet!"

"Too late, Win. Love you..."

The words hung in the air. Ed's skin became cold, and it seemed like the light and his hair dimmed too, making everything nearly monochrome. His eyes were closed, his hand still held in Winry's.

And he was dead.

That too.

"EDWARD!"

 **Behold, this is what happens when I decide to put the 10xDeath Syndrome onto FMA-land. I realize others do these kinds of things too, but I needed to try it myself, so here you are. I need to go write the next chapter, so I'll see you later.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back (laughs evilly) And you'll never see this one coming. (Announcer voice) Sudden Death! GO!**

 **Don't own FMA or Smash Bros (which I stole a few lines from above). Enjoy ,and I doubt you need tissues for this one, FYI. And I promise this is the only other one that is in a hospital.**

Death Type 02

"Well, today's just full of so many surprises, huh?" Ed said to Alphonse, earning a nod. "First Colonel Sarcasm was nice to me. Then Winry shows up an hour after I break my automail to fix it. Also, Scar has tried to kill me for the second time since I saw him. What's next?"

Al sighed and rested his empty arms on his empty knees, setting his chin in his hands. "Well, you're stuck in a hospital now. I think we've had enough surprises today. I don't want any more myself."

The two Elrics and Winry were inside a hospital room in Central's military hospital, Ed being the one in bed. Scar had attacked them earlier and broken Ed's automail (a rather nasty building fall had caused some of the screws to loosen and his port to malfunction from pressure), but Winry had planned on visiting them that day regardless, so she was currently working on Ed's arm as he lay in the hospital bed. His head and chest had been bandaged up, but the doctors had told him to stay in bed for a couple days, which he had protested against but eventually been forced to do.

"Stop fidgeting, Ed," Winry said, talking around the two screws in the corner of her mouth. "It moves the bedsheet around and makes it hard to fix all these screws and things."

Ed sighed and complied, lying completely still, or as still as a restless fifteen-year-old can get. He still held his nonmetal arm up and moved his wrist and fingers around in a patternless fashion. Al watched with a little curiosity as the automail mechanic worked on Ed's prosthetic. The one in possession of the prosthetic was starting to get very bored.

After a few minutes Winry snapped her fingers to get Ed's attention and then said, "I'm reattaching the nerves now. Try not to scream."

"I didn't scream when I was eleven and I'm not screaming now," he replied, but even still he grabbed tightly onto the sheets with his left hand. Al placed a heavy leather one on his brother's shoulder, but was brushed off.

Winry did her part and reattached all the nerves into his automail arm with one turn of the wrench, making Ed's small frame jerk for a moment. His teeth grit together in pain, but only a very soft groan escaped his lips. When he opened his tightly shut eyes Winry had out her tools away and strapped them on her back, and was waving.

"Call me next time your automail malfunctions. Or just, you know, call to check in. That'd be nice too, you know."

Ed nodded and gave a small wave of his own, and then Winry left. He flexed the arm that he had just regained feeling in and then grabbed the hospital shirt from the side of his bed and pulled it on. He and Al sat in confortable silence for a few minutes, waiting for the inevitable.

Sure enough, after a decent period of silence, the door to the room opened again and in walked Colonel Sarcasm and Lt. Hawkeye. Riza was there mostly to stop Mustang from tearing his subordinate apart. Which he would have loved to do so, or maybe just burn him to the bone, but she had taken his gloves away too.

"What have you been doing, Fullmetal?" He asked in a scarily controlled voice with anger beneath the surface. "I let you off duty for a few days and you manage to find a mass murderer and nearly get yourself killed! That could very well mess up my line of work!"

Ed smirk-smiled. "Oh, so that's all you care about, getting higher up on the ladder, huh?"

Riza sat down on the chair Winry had occupied seven minutes ago. Roy stayed where he was, still silently fuming, but now his voice was louder. "Of course not, I care for your wellbeing too! But-"

Al's soft chuckles and Ed's outright guffaws of laughter immediately drowned out the rest of his sentence. When he'd finally calmed down, Ed wiped his eyes with his metal hand and said through his giggles, "Wow... The Colonel actually caring? Never saw that one coming."

Roy opened his mouth to say something, fury dancing in his onyx eyes, then closed it and stalked to the far end of the room, pulling up a chair on the opposite side of the room from the golden-eyed kid and the tin can, lacing his fingers together and placing them under his chin, eyes closing as he tried to calm himself.

Riza smiled and looked over at Ed. "He tries not to show it, but he cares for all his subordinates, including you. He hates to see anyone get killed if he can help it. How are you doing?"

"Decent," Ed said, wiggling his left hand in a 'meh' gesture. "I could be worse off, you know?"

Al spoke up. "They tried giving him an IV but he refused it. Like a kid."

"Hey, Al!" Ed protested. "You know I hate needles, they're creepy! Plus they remind me of automail surgery and rehab and I am NOT doing that again. I have some very legitimate reasons for hating shots and needles."

"But you don't need to hate them that much!"

"I am NOT going to mentally relive a year of rehab! It was scarring enough the first time!"

Riza interrupted the heated but pointless argument. "When you say rehab, you mean getting used to automail prosthetics?"

Ed nodded, golden bangs bobbing up and down. The Colonel moved his chair up next to Riza's. "When you get automail, you have to get your ports in first. They literally put metal and skin together. If you're at a nice hospital in a big city, they can put you to sleep while that happens. If you're in a small town like I was, the automail places don't have enough money for the expensive equipment, and you have to be awake while the mechanics install ports. No matter how many pain numbers they give you, it still hurts like nothing else.

"And then getting your nerves rerouted is painful too. A lot of people have actually died from the pain of rerouting, or from being awake during port installation. Rehab is hard too, getting used to cold heavy metal takes a while. Part of rehab is mental, too."

"You went through all that when you were eleven?" Roy questioned. Ed nodded.

"Hey, come to think of it, you're being nice again," Ed commented. "What's my next surprise? Either Al's going to randomly get his body back or I'm going to get randomly stabbed."

"Careful what you wish for, Fullmetal Pipsqueak."

"PIPSQUEAK?" Ed yelled, looking around. "Hey, I know that voice!"

The nurse that was outside the door closed and locked it, then transformed into none other than the shapeshifting Homunculus, Envy. His purple, snakelike eyes glinted.

"Envy here, granting the wishes of a Mr. Edward Elric." And then Envy lunged forward, the knife behind his back becoming visible as it aimed straight for Ed's chest.

"NO!"

Three voices of varying pitches cried out at once, and four people did different things trying to prevent one thing from happening. Riza reached for her guns, hoping to distract the Homunculus. Roy and Al reached for him, trying to stop him from reaching Ed's chest. Ed himself moved his hands fast as he could to clap them together and do ...well, _something_ , but in the midst of the slow motion all Envy did was smirk.

It was like a slow motion movie. The knife arcing through the air. Envy's maniacal smile. Ed's stoic, neutral face, though there was a great, hidden fear in his eyes. The silver metal meeting flesh. Roy and Riza's wide eyes. The dagger continuing further into Ed's chest. Al's small red eyes that somehow managed to show fear as well.

The reel of film sped back up. Riza reached her guns a moment too late. Al's leather gauntlet and Roy's hand touched nothing. Ed choked on his own blood, staining the bedsheet. Envy pulled the knife out of the wound with a sickening _squelch_ , then ran out of the open window while everyone was in shock.

Ed's head hit the pillow hard. It was never to rise on its own again. His eyes were still open, showing the same fear as before, but somehow also some small bit of acceptance.

 _I was going to die eventually. It just happened a bit earlier than I thought._

Or a lot sooner.

And he was dead.

That happened, too.

"EDWARD!"

"FULLMETAL!"

"BROTHER!"

 **(Holding hands out) Behold, the Sudden Death. Most of this was just buildup to the actual death. If I had just written the death it would be like 200 words, so I elongated it. A lot. Anyways, the next chapter is going to be soon, so I'll try not to keep you hanging. See ya! (Shapeshifts into Ed and walks away)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear all of my angst lovers:**

 **I promise you angst is coming. Some of these types of death I'm not very good at writing/I don't like writing, so I'm getting those ones out of the way first. I hate happy deaths or romantic deaths or heroic deaths or anything like that, so I'm doing those types first. The angst is what I truly live for, and I promise it comes in in the last six or so chapters. There's even a type of death I titled 'The Angsty Death,' so look forward to it.**

 **To all of my non-angst readers:**

 **Yeah, the angst starts soon. Get ready. I am very scarily good at writing depression and angst so hold onto your seats and Kleenex or pick up your bags and leave the theater. I am NOT merciful when it comes to 10xDeath.**

 **Anyways, I'm trying something different with this chapter, I'm doing it from Ed's POV. I wanna see if I can write his thought patterns in a convincing way, so here ya go. Tell me in the reviews if I did good or not.**

 **I don't own FMA and here's the third chapter of In Which my favorite character gets killed over and over and over. This one MUST be set in the 2003 anime, it makes no sense in BTHD or the manga.**

Death Type 03

"This could prove to be harder than I thought."

Seriously, why did the Homunculi have to be so flipping annoyingly hard to kill?

Scratch that, I have killed Sloth at least four times by now and she's _still_ using her freaky water limbs to try and strangle me, suffocate me, or possess Al. I swear to Truth, if my next plan doesn't work I am going to lose it.

Or maybe I already have. I honestly don't think I would notice if I went crazy.

Currently, said plan is to push these two crates together - both of which have half a transmutation circle on them - and then blast this stupid Homunculus apart.

You know what I hate the most about this? The fact that Sloth is the Homunculus created by the failed transmutation of my mother. You know what I hate the second most about this? The fact that she won't just freaking die!

Al pushed one of the crates and I pushed the other, and then he used it, blasting Sloth out of his body and onto the floor in a puddle of water that for some reason made me feel oddly light and happy inside.

Of course, Wrath chose this moment to appear, and promptly threw a temper tantrum in the middle of Sloth's remains. I swear, she better stay a puddle of water or I will scream.

Of course, seeing as the universe and the Homunculi hate me, the puddle reformed into Sloth and Wrath and Al and I just sort of stared in either disbelief or happiness (in the first one's case). And then I followed through on my promise.

"I SWEAR TO TRUTH THAT HOMUNCULI ARE THE MOST ANNOYING ENEMIES!"

I'm pretty sure that everyone in town and maybe everyone way down in Resembool could hear me, but I honestly didn't give a frick. I hate Homunculi.

Sloth laughed. "Well, we are very good at regenerating."

There was a crackle of Alchemy and Wrath connected himself to Sloth. She looked down at him questioningly. He replied, "I'm not leaving you behind again, Mommy!"

"She's not your effing mother, Wrath!" I yelled, but then an idea formed in my head. Or, more like I realized something and formed an impromptu plan from it. "But you really shouldn't have done that, you know."

"Why?" Wrath said. Sloth's eyes widened as I explained.

"Remember how you absorbed my mom's remains earlier? Now she's exposed to them. So say goodbye to your 'mother.'"

I knew Al was going to kill me later for killing this Homunculus, because he somehow saw it as Mom, but I just wanted to get outta here. I was starting to worry about how quiet Lust was being. Don't get me wrong, I don't like her. A lot. But she is temporarily my ally, and I could use some help from someone who _isn't_ biased as heck to not hurting or killing Sloth.

However, just as I was transmuting her body into ethanol, or stating the chain reaction that would lead to it, Wrath detached himself from Sloth and started running toward Al, yelling something about stabbing and a blood seal.

Oh no he freaking didn't.

If I had ever had time to look back, I would have seen that it was a tactic - Wrath distracts me from killing Sloth, then they kill us. I would not have taken the bait if I knew the results.

But I didn't, and I only had one second to decide, and my stupid brotherly instincts took over. So Sloth stood smiling, looking so much like Mom, while I ran past her and jumped in front of Al.

"Don't touch him!" I yelled at Wrath, using the energy from the transmutation I was going to do on Sloth and used it on the ground, sending Wrath flying because of a giant stone hand. Serves the little idiot right.

"Brother! You-" Al said, but I cut him off.

"Al! Go! Hurry! I'm not letting you get killed!"

"But if you stay, you'll get killed-"

"I'M THE OLDER BROTHER! LISTEN TO ME! RUN AWAY, NOW!"

I could almost feel the regret radiating off of his metal body. "Okay. See you later?"

"Go!"

And that was the day I decided to play the hero and I got to pay the price.

At least Al's alive. That's a good thing, right?

 **I have no idea how that went from "Homunculi are the most annoying enemies" ranting to really serious and stuff. I know this is my worst chapter and I'm making it up by posting another one later today. Number four is the last one that has only minimal levels of angst in it... And then I can start showing off my tragedy talent. Of which I have lots.**

 **I'll have to start putting a lot of disclaimers and warnings for tissues in my A/Ns, huh?**

 **See ya.**


	4. Chapter 4

**(Looks back at the Ch. 2 A/N) I lied.**

 **This one has to be in a hospital or I can't make it work.**

 **But I swear to Truth that this is the last one that will be in a hospital ever. The others I looked over and seriously, none of them have even a remote chance of needing to be held in a hospital. But this one... Yeah, kinda needs some circumstances.**

 **And I'm sorry to all of my Roy Mustang-lovers because in this chapter you're getting to see the "Hero of Ishbal" side of him.**

 **Disclaimers: I've never even been in a hospital before, so don't sue me if I get things wrong. I don't own FMA, and if you're an aforementioned Roy-lover grab a few Kleenex. No, not the whole box!**

Death Type 04

The world is a cruel place, Roy thought.

Then again, I already knew that.

It seems that the world was always the hardest on the innocent. The people at the top crush those below them, those who did no wrong, to reach their goals, but because of their status no one can call them out. The world may work like the Briggs saying - The weak carve the way for the strong to take their place - but that didn't make it any more fair.

If one wanted an example of 'the innocent are always the victims' then look into the window of the Central military hospital in Amestris, room 211, right in the corner where no one bothers to come because it's too far from the stairs. Inside, the room is dimly lit, the most light coming from the many machines surrounding the bed. The visitor was Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, sitting on a metal straight-backed chair and clutching the metal frame of the hospital bed with warm, shaking hands.

The one in the bed was Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, though he didn't really look like alchemist material, if the readings on the machines were anything to go by.

It was so sudden - one second, he was fine, and the next he was coughing and choking on his own blood. While Riza and Al carried him to the car to get him to Central's hospital, the young Elric mentioned that something like this happened to their teacher, Izumi Curtis. But it couldn't be the same thing, because hers was caused by losing internal organs and Ed would have said something if that happened.

When the doctor diagnosed it, he explained that it was a rare, genetically transmitted disease that was passed from parents to children. It was the same one that killed Trisha Elric. The same doctor said that his team would do all they could to stop it from advancing any further, but it was almost always lethal.

Ed, after three days in the hospital, felt good enough to go out and about, although his legs sometimes didn't support him and he'd have to lean on Al for a few minutes. Once or twice he had started coughing up blood, too, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Externally, Ed acted like the disease wasn't too big a deal.

Internally, he was freaking out. This was the same thing that killed his mom, after all, and now it was starting on him too. The doctor explained that it usually only affected the firstborn child, and rarely the rest, so he was glad he was the one having it instead of Al, but he doubted it would have affected Al anyways, considering his empty armor thing.

Actually, he was doing much better than Trisha had. According to the nurses and doctor, there were seven stages, the seventh being death. Most people who caught it had to go to bedrest at stage three, but luckily Ed was only at two.

They decided to call it Elric Syndrome, seeing as it didn't have a name before, as it had targeted two of the Elrics.

However, just a few days after getting out of the hospital, Ed was sent outside of Central for a mission given to him by one of the higher-ups, and he'd been attacked and had to use Alchemy. The excessive amount of strain it put on his body to use so much Alchemy had made the stages go by much quicker than they were meant, and he jumped from two to five in the span of four minutes. Al abandoned the fight and ran with his brother all the way back to Central, where he knew there was the best hospital and the doctors who knew how to treat Elric Syndrome.

That night, Ed was unconscious, hooked up to a bunch of machines and very close to dying.

Everyone had come to see him once he rose back to consciousness, but he was usually too weak to even manage a wave or more than three words.

Sciezka and Winry were the first ones to come. Ed had only managed to give them a couple smiles before they left. Then it was Kain Fuery and Heymans Breda, followed soon after by Vato Falman, but they had to get going soon. The bedridden boy had shown the most enthusiasm toward his brother and Roy/Riza.

Riza had left nearly half an hour ago. Al had gone with her. It was only Roy with Ed, and he was panicking, because the sixth stage had decided to show itself while they were gone. He was going to die soon, huh? Roy knew he was in pain, so much that he had gone delirious a while back, and the disease was too far along to backtrack and treat it.

Ed's skin was pale and covered in a light layer of sweat, and his whole body was shaking. His eyes were unfocused, still a bright gold, but unfocused and constantly darting from one place to another as if searching for something or someone. Roy just sat pushing his fingers hard into the metal frame for a few minutes, not bringing himself to look up at his subordinate, until one small, barely heard word broke his trance.

"Dad?"

Roy looked up. Ed's unfocused eyes had finally caught onto Roy's face and he had locked onto it, not looking away. In his delirious state, he was bound to say something like that.

Seeing as he wouldn't ever remember this, Roy let go of the big-bad-military-Colonel act and humored him. He took Ed's flesh hand and squeezed it. The skin was clammy and cold, and it scared Roy more than he would let on.

"Right here, Ed."

Ed blinked, then closed his eyes and fell asleep. Roy didn't dare let go of his hand, but instead lowered them so they rested on the sheets instead of in the air. Now he just had to wait for the monitors to stop beeping.

-Two hours later-

The world was very cruel.

Ed was obviously in pain, every time he opened his eyes - even for just a few seconds at a time - there were the remnants of fear and pain in the golden irises before his eyes flickered to where he knew Roy's face would be and he relaxed. Sometimes he would fall back asleep after that, but this time he'd stayed awake.

"It hurts, Dad."

Roy flinched. He was delirious, but that didn't make it sting any less.

Why didn't he just die? He deserved it. He shouldn't be in so much pain.

The black-haired Colonel squeezed his cold hand tighter.

"I'm still here, Ed."

-Three hours later-

Roy couldn't take it anymore.

Ed's breathing was uneven and sometimes he would suddenly start going faster or slower than before. But it never stopped. Why wasn't he dead? Why couldn't he just die? It would be better for him to die than have to go through this. He was in so much pain.

Roy looked over to the side table. There was a needle and some bottles on it.

He had an idea.

"Wait for just one minute, Ed."

-A few minutes later-

All right, it had seemed like a good idea before, but he was starting to hate himself for thinking of it. But it would be better than just letting him sit here in so much pain, right?

Roy was holding the needle above Ed's throat, ready to inject it. It would make him fall asleep forever. He didn't want to do it, but he knew Ed would've wanted him to.

Ed's metal hand touched his cheek, jolting him out of his torrent of thoughts and into the real world, where his hands were shaking and his cheeks were wet.

"Don't cry, Dad."

Roy took his left hand and lowered the automail hand. He forcefully stopped his right from shaking and said, "Your father loves you, Ed."

"Love you too, Dad."

And then he pushed the needle, and then Ed died. The machines stopped beeping, realizing his heart was no longer beating. The silence seemed eerie.

And Ed was dead.

That, too.

"I hate myself."

 **Yeah, so Roy killed Ed. Sue me. I'd rather die than go trough a lot of pain like that. Anyways, I'm sorry and not sorry if you like Roy because hey! You saw him, but hey! He killed Ed.**

 **Well, the next one's even worse than this one, plus it's _angst time_... Mwahahaha...**

 **See you.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ahahahaha! I have done it! I have made it to the ANGST CHAPTERS! Yush! This one I didn't try for angst though. I'm saving angst for later chapters. I don't really know what I think of this one.**

 **As I said, this one ain't told in a hospital. It's told in Ed's own words - a note left on a bedside table. Let's have a look.**

 **Disclaimers: You don't need tissues, but just be prepared for some Ed angst. Or a lot... I dunno. Don't own FMA, and it's okay to leave the tissues in another room for this. There's some mild blood references too. And this one has to happen in BTHD.**

Death Type 05

 _Dear Al,_

 _I'm pretty sure you're going to find this first, so I guess I'll write this to you. This is a lot to be getting off my chest, so just bear with me._

 _I'm sorry._

 _It's my fault that you're trapped in a suit of armor. You've told me countless times that you can't smell, feel, taste, heck, you can't even eat. That's my fault, I know it. It's my fault you can't do any of that..._

 _Sorry. I also feel bad about dragging you into all this Philosopher's Stone stuff. You don't have to follow me around - Winry would probably love company in Resembool. But you do, and I think I kind of make you. But then your life keeps getting endangered, and I can't help but think that it's my fault for making you come with me just so_ I _feel safe. It's selfish and it's bad for you._

 _Remember when we sat in the rain together right before Scar came? And you couldn't even feel it? And then when he did attack and he busted you up? You could have just stayed inside, but I brought you out there with me._

 _Oh yeah, and while I'm at it I should probably apologize for trying to bring Mom back in the first place. You kept telling me it was a bad idea, but I was blinded by my want/need/whatever it was to see Mom again. I don't know what it was I thought would happen. I should have listened to you, I should have listened to the bolded warnings on every page of every book, but I didn't and it cost you a lot more than it cost me._

 _Sorry about everything that's my fault, really. There's one more thing I need to tell you before I finish up here, though._

 _When we were in Central a few days ago the doctor diagnosed me with depression. I didn't do anything to stop it. Is that bad?_

 _Probably._

 _I love you, Al. Tell Win I love her too. And if you follow me I'll never forgive you so stay where you are._

 _-Ed_

The paper was found on Ed's dresser the night of the day he wrote it. In a panic, his brother Alphonse ran out into the snow and searched for him. Edward Elric was found the next morning dead with a knife in his hand, just a couple hundred yards outside of the Briggs fortress, by Al and a few others in a search party. His funeral was held back in Central a few days later.

It was known as the day that Riza Hawkeye, Ling Yao, and Roy Mustang himself cried in public.

 **Yeah, it was short. Whatever. It's also late. I would have posted yesterday but I was busy. See ya.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm just going to write this and see where it goes. This is an alternate version of what happened during the transmutation... I don't really know. I just sat down and wrote it. But it's another shot at Ed's POV, just from a more serious and mature-er Ed. I dunno if I like it or not.**

 **In a PM with one of my reviewers they told me about Psychostick's Die a Lot song. Go listen to it but sing this in your head.**

 **People DIE! Edward DIE! Barry DIE! Edward DIE! Trisha DIE! Lust DIE! Edward Die a lot! Hughes DIE! Greed DIE! Edward DIE! Martel DIE! 48 DIE! Envy... kind of? Edward Die a lot!**

 **It's beautiful. And I don't own FMA. Spoilers about beyond the Gate. Brotherly love, Alphonse, no angst even though I said these would be angsty. How can an 11-year-old have angst? No idea.**

Death Type 06 (AU)

We didn't want any of it to happen, honest. We didn't want very much in the first place. We just wanted Mom back.

Her last words weren't even saying she loved us. She said something about how we reminded her of Dad because of our Alchemy. I don't know if I hate or love her for it, but I wanted her back more than anything. So we found a teacher, went through training, and came back only six months later ready to start studying about humans.

I remember the second day we got back, after we had caught up with everyone and were back in school.

"Cells 66%, noncellular fluids 24%, and noncellular solids 10%..." Al had muttered under his breath.

Next to him, I'd said, "ECW, 26%, ICW, 34%, fats, 14%, and that means protein is... um..." My paper was covered in notes on human structure and information. "Maybe we should go straight to learning the chemical composition, Al."

"No, it's best to start with this stuff and go up from there!"

"Ed? Al?" Our teacher said, making us look up. "You realize you are in math class?" She pointed to the board, which had stuff on it we should have copied down.

In unison: "But math is boring~..."

(Teacher used Furious Chalk Dance!)

(Elrics used Elric Guard!)

"Teacher, Wniry fell asleep again!"

And after a while, we felt like we were finally ready to bring Mom back, so we started sifting through (that man)'s books and notes and diagrams until I found the one that showed how to make the right circle with the right runes. We drew it in the basement in (that man)'s old dusty study he never even used anymore, since he was never home. The tables were cleared off and the books and paper was replaced with all the random crap we needed. We started out with six pieces of chalk and barely had enough to finish the circle and its runes.

It seems that the more huge and complicated the circle, the better the result is supposed to be. Not this time.

"What's the first thing you'll say to Mom when she gets back?"

"That's easy - Don't tell teacher!"

We both laughed.

Al might have thought it sometimes, but I never even let myself think something could go wrong. But it did.

My leg disappeared, and Al was being torn apart right in front of me. He was reaching for me, I was reaching for him...

And suddenly I was standing in front of a big gray door with some stuff on it in a white void.

"Wh... where...?"

"Welcome to the Gate."

The speaker was a white humanoid... thing, I guess? The only feature on it was a white mouth.

"Who are you...?"

"I am called many things. I am the Universe. I am God. I am the Truth. I am the World. I am One. I am All. And..." It pointed to me. "I am You."

Before I could think too much about it, the Gate behind me opened up and I was greeted with a giant eyeball and too many tiny dark hands to count. They tried to pull me in, even though I resisted.

"No, wait! Wait-!-!-!"

The last thing I saw of that side was (One? All? Universe? World?) grinning at me. It was like a mental slap to the face.

And then... The Truth was before me.

It hurt. It hurt a lot more than I thought. It was like everything ever known to man and everything man didn't know pouring into my head at the same time. Things flashed by my eyes so quickly I couldn't even comprehend what it was before the next thing came by, but somehow I knew _exactly_ what it was and everything about why and how and when and where and how long and who and...

It hurt.

I had left my body, but I'd never really gone. I was everywhere and nowhere all at once. I was being shoved into the face of the Truth by tiny dark hands and I was screaming on the floor of the basement and I was living in every moment in history and every moment before it and every moment after it was done. I saw forever, the end of forever, before forever, after forever, in between forever and the next. I was being torn to shreds and rebuilt and pulled apart and patched back up at once. It was like no other pain I had experienced, and like no other happiness. I felt giddy and horrified and confused and depressed and sane and insane and furious and empty and lost and found in the blink of an eye. I was nothing and something and everything - but not at all.

I was screaming, screaming for something or someone to make it stop. It hurt beyond explanation and it was the most pleasant thing I had felt, all in those few moments.

After who-knows-how-long of it, I suddenly saw a person at the end.

"Make it stop, make it - Mom? MOM!-! Please, let me stay! Help! Mom! MOOMM!-!-!"

And then I was pounding on the big stone doors, tears running down my cheeks.

...What?

How long was I standing there? Why was I there? Why had I cried?

"How was it?" Truth (as I dub it) asked from behind me.

"..." I tried to sum it up, which was hard. "It was like... everything about everything was being shoved into my brain at the same time." Then, I remembered what I saw. "Wait, Mom's in there! The secret to Human transmutation! Please let me see it again!"

Truth laughed. "That's all you get for the toll you paid."

I turned. "Toll...?"

More laughter. "Equivalent Exchange. A novel concept, right?"

Pain in my left leg. I looked down. It deconstructed right before my eyes and left me with a stump. When I looked up, my OWN LEG was materializing on Truth's left leg area.

"...Little Alchemist?"

And then I was back in the basement, clutching where my left leg used to be and screaming and crying.

"Al? AAAALLLL!"

I had to do something. Something, anything, to save my little brother from what happened...

No response. I saw his clothes through the smoke, laid out neatly as if all he had to do was walk up and put them back on. But he wasn't anywhere to be found. And I wanted my little brother back.

If I wanted him back, I needed to sacrifice something - now that Equivalency was driven home in my mind. But what could equal a human life? Even Al's and my blood from Mom's blood didn't bring her back!

Equal a human life...

Not a human body...

But another human life...

I realized I had been saying most of that out loud. "Another human life... Me! You know what, Truth, give me back my brother! I don't care what you want to take from me!"

I had my own blood all over my hands. I drew blood seals all over every part of my body I was willing to let Truth have, and even some parts I wasn't. My other leg.

My right arm.

"Give him back..!"

My left arm.

"Please, give him BACK!"

My heart.

"He's the only family I have left!"

My lungs.

"Take whatever you want..."

My mind.

"But please..."

My soul.

"GIVE MY LITTLE BROTHER BACK!-!-!"

And then I was standing before Truth and the Gate again. Truth grinned its somehow sickening white-toothed smile again and sneered, "Back for more, Little Alchemist?

"I'm impressed by the sacrifices you're willing to make for your brother."

"Give him back to me! Take whatever you need for the Equivalent Exchange! Please, I need him back!"

Truth grinned. "Yes... I'm very impressed, as I said, for the sacrifices you're willing to make to see your little brother again. But have you ever wondered what that means for you?"

I started to think about it further, now that I was able to think a bit more. What I had been willing to sacrifice... Limbs, heart, mind, soul...

Truth grinned and stood up. The Gate inched open behind me.

"Have you realized? The price of a human body, mind and soul is the cost of a body, mind and soul!"

Oh, no.

I couldn't say anything. My eyes just widened and I stood, shocked into stillness.

The Gate was opening wider, but I couldn't see beyond it.

Truth said from behind me, "I'll give you back your little brother, but I'm taking you in his place. Since he's younger than you, he's only worth your mind and soul. I'll leave your body lying on the ground so he can cry over your corpse."

The Gate opened wider. I didn't know whether or not to regret my choice.

But... It looked different this time. It wasn't full of tiny black hands and a couple hundred purple eyeballs. It was bright, white, no creepy hands. And I could see something on the other side, too. Someone tall, with long hair and a big smile...

"Mom... I found you after all...Truth, take care of Al..."

The whiteness swallowed me up, and then...

Blank.

The end.

Fin.

-;-;-;-

Alphonse rose from the floor feeling very disoriented and dizzy. Where was he? They were trying to resurrect Mom, and then...

Ed, looking very freaked out, leg disappearing into the purple, red and black around them, calling his name...

"Brother!"

His older brother appeared to be slumped on the floor a few feet away. His leg stump was bleeding freely, making a growing pool of dark red iron-smelling liquid around him. His head was facing Al, and that may have just been the worst. His eyes were lifeless but wide open, no remnant of emotion in them. It was impossible to tell why they were so wide. Blood seals were drawn on his forehead, both arms, chest (twice), and remaining leg, all visible to the eyes of the ten-year-old watching. But, on his lips, there was the faint remnant of a smile.

Though Al didn't know it, he's been smiling because at least his little brother would live through it.

And, the next day, when the Rockbells visited to see what happened;

"...Edward? Edward! EEEEDDD!"

"BROTHER!"

 **Sorry 'bout that. To change the subject, I read 14 volumes of the FMA manga series in 3 days... And I had to check them out from the school library one at a time, so that's an accomplishment. Review and tell me what you thought! See ya!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I didn't write anything for number seven. So... Yeah, I'm just going to write something and see where it goes. That's actually usually how I write these things. It's Ed dying by the hands of an enemy... Like all of the close calls everywhere else in the anime but this time it actually happened.**

Death Type 07: Death by Murder

It was funny, really, how he'd defied death in ways no one thought possible, but here he was in an alley hurting everywhere.

Ed didn't actually know for sure whether he was severely injured or dying, but it had to be one of the two. If he was dying, then he felt it was okay to utter every version of 'screw you' he knew toward the weather.

If he didn't get to live his life how he wanted - because who wants to be in the military and be called a dog - couldn't he at least choose how it is when he's dying? Maybe a downpour of rain, with thunder and lightning flashes, as if the world was crying for him - but nope. The sun was shining, the clouds that littered the sky were puffy and white, children played in the streets, people laughed.

Ed finally stumbled down the alleyway far enough to be hidden in the shade and braced himself against the wall with his automail hand, clutching his side with his other. He didn't look down, afraid of what he'd see, but based on the biting pain in his side, it was probably a bad gash. It must have gone deep enough to hit some internal organs, because he was now trying not to cough up blood, while sliding down a wall to a sitting position.

This wound _hurt_ , dang it.

Ed did a quick self-assessment of his injuries. His automail ports were tingling - probably due to the amount of cuts that littered the area around them. Everywhere along his legs and arms were sore from moving around and running so much, and all parts of his body below his neck burned and stung with everything from minor scratches to crazy gashes. He had three - nope, four - cuts on his face, one of which was dripping blood into his right eye. He was pretty sure he'd lost his hair tie somewhere, because his hair had fallen out and was all tangled and sticky with dried and fresh blood.

"Ed? Ed! Where are you?"

"I'm pretty sure he's this way! I can almost feel it!"

 _Oh no, not them,_ Ed thought, as the voices of Riza and Alphonse rang almost painfully in his head. He stayed quiet and watched the opening of the alley. Through his blurred vision, he saw a blue figure and a gray one (taller by a few feet) run past. He sighed, letting go a breath he didn't know he was holding.

...Until they doubled back and ran down the alley, screaming his name.

Their voices were panicked and loud, hurting Ed's ears and head. He pulled his knees to his face and wrapped his arms around them, trying to block out the noise of their shouts. They immediately quieted, as if realizing it hurt his head.

"Brother?"

He looked down at his thoroughly blood-soaked and tattered cloak, jacket and shirt, not looking up or moving. "Yeah?" Wow. His voice was reeeaally strained.

"What... what happened?"

"Edward."

He flinched visibly, making the wound in his side hurt. Riza's voice was soft and gentle, but commanding and harsh at the same time. She sounded like a mother reprimanding her child after he'd done something bad. "Yeah?"

"Please let me check you over."

Ed clutched his knees tighter, burying his head further into his legs. He didn't want someone to baby him - even if the person was Hawkeye. "I'm just fine. You don't need to-"

"No, Edward. You are obviously not fine, and if you don't let me check on your wounds I will pry you apart myself, do I make myself clear?"

He gave up, relaxing the muscles in his body. They were starting to ache from the strain of running, then holding himself, so it felt nice to let them relax. He let his hands fall to his sides and his legs slide forward - not a lot, though, because they almost immediately hit something hard an metalley-feeling. Al was probably there. He would have looked up, but his eyes were blurry - tears from pain, or just blood? - so he let his head fall limp. He could hear the visible gasps from both of the people in his company.

"Edward."

He saw Riza's hands enter his vision, gently touching the wounds. "What happened?"

He shrugged, wincing. "Dunno. I was just walking around and then something hit me from behind - after that it's kind of a blur of fighting and running-" he cut off, coughing up blood into his arm. The red of his coat didn't appear any different than before.

"Are you gonna be okay, Brother?" Al asked, his voice shaky. He would have been crying if he had a body.

Al. Body.

Crap.

 _Al had no body._

How was he supposed to mourn without tears? How was he going to deal with it? How would he get his body back? He couldn't die here.

But it was inevitable. He was already feeling lightheaded from blood loss. He was screwed.

"Al..."

"Yes, Brother?"

"I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about."

Riza's voice entered again. Her hands wavered uncertainly over his side. "Edward, is it okay if I touch your wounds?"

"Sure," he said, finally gathering the strength to look up high enough to see the reddish eyes of his brother's soul. "Al, how are you gonna cry without tears?"

The younger Elric looked taken aback. He didn't answer, but instead looked away. When he looked back Ed's head was once again hung down, and his body had gone mostly slack. He was losing strength. He saw Riza poke around a particularly horrible wound and said quietly, "Does it hurt, Brother? Can you feel the pain?"

He laughed bitterly, smiling despite himself. "Pain? The pain's always been there, Al. I'm just learning to embrace it now, and then leave it behind."

"You're not gonna die!" He said, distraught. "You're gonna live and help get our bodies back! What would Mustang say if you died in an alleyway just because of a fight?"

"He'd say something like, 'I always knew that Fullmetal would get the short end of the string. He's always short.'" He winced and couched up more blood. "Or something."

His voice had gotten steadily quieter as he spoke, and now it was barely more than a whisper. As he finished talking, Riza pulled her now-red hands away from his body. Her face was somber. "I'm sorry, Edward, Alphonse. The wounds are fatal. It can't be helped."

Alphonse started tripping over his own breaths, sounding as if he wanted to cry really bad. Ed smiled, letting his head rest against the stone wall so he could see the sky. It had clouded over, and a downpour had begun. Finally, something going his way. He was getting a slightly dramatic death, weather-wise at least.

Both the people in the alley saw his golden eyes start to dim. Riza stood up and moved away, as the pool of blood was spreading with the addition of rainwater. A moment later, and neither brother had moved.

Al closed the eyes of his now-dead brother. The rain caught on the edge of his helmet and dripped from the eye part, making it look like he was crying when he couldn't.

"See ya, Brother."

"Edward."

 **Meh. I need to update again today so I gotta go. See ya.**


	8. Chapter 8 (Final)

**Okay, look, I know I said 10 deaths, but I'm cutting it here at 8. It's close enough to the deadline for this thing that I need to wrap it up soon. So... I made sure to eat lots of sugar and read lots of angst to prepare myself. Enjoy some angst. Oh yeah, and to those to whom I haven't sent a review reply to, thanks here, because I'm probably not getting around to it with my busy life. See ya at the end.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own. I sooo wish though.**

Death Type 08

Ed didn't know how long he'd been stuck in here - days, weeks, maybe even a couple months. There was no clock. There were no windows. He was too far away from the train tracks to feel their rumbling. And the guys keeping him here kept giving him drugs that put him into unconsciousness for unknown amounts of time. He didn't recognize the guys, nor the place where he was kidnapped, and that just put him even more on edge.

He had tried talking to them a couple times, but at this point his voice was worn thin from both moderate disuse and how much pain it put his chest through. He had no idea what he looked like, but it was probably to the point even Mustang couldn't conjure a snarky comment on his condition. Except maybe something like, "Wow, Fullmetal, with your body healing yourself that much, I don't think you'll get any taller for years." Which, in all honesty, would hurt more than anger him, because Mustang was Colonel I-Don't-Care-About-Anyone-Else-Haha-Lol-God-Complex. It was what he did.

Ed looked around again. His arms were tied to the side of the chair - he couldn't transmute his way out. They'd taken his automail leg so he couldn't run, and even if he did get out of the ropes he wouldn't have the strength left over to go anywhere regardless.

There was a creak cutting through the ringing silence of his prison, followed by muffled voices and the sound of a door opening and slamming shut quickly and eagerly. He hated that door - but he was grateful at the same time because it steeled himself for what was coming. It just told him the fact that it was coming in the first place, too. So he didn't really know his feelings about the creaky door. It was good and bad, he guessed he thought.

Listen to me, Ed thought. Rambling about a freaking door. I must be going insane. Or maybe I always have been and these events are making me normal and that seems like I'm insane.

He looked up as the usual three guys stepped into the room. He gave them names in his head because they didn't tell him theirs - the guy in the back was tall and thin, not at all muscular, but he was the one who gave him the drugs, so he didn't really need to be. He also instructed the other two on how to best torture him. And then laughed maniacally. His eyes were nearly always hidden by glasses, and the guy reminded him of a deeper-voiced Tucker, so his name was Tucker II. Fitting.

The second one was an extremely muscular guy - maybe three-quarters of an Armstrong. Almost a Sig. He had really really silver hair - not white, just really silver and shiny even there with no light - and he had Ishvalan eyes, but his skin was normal-colored. He still reminded Ed strongly of a more muscle-ey Scar, and so it came out that this guy was Scar II.

The third guy wasn't necessarily muscular, or fat, he was just built big. And he could pack a really mean punch, as Ed had learned. His hair and eyes were both pitch black, and the latter were completely emotionless - void of emotion. Just black pits of nothingness, even though his voice and general disposition were filled with a general hatred of everything. So, Void was the name Ed gave him.

The three guys were the ones that usually came in to torture him. Torturing was really all he knew now - he'd been kidnapped and taken here and tortured for information about anything he knew until he broke. He'd been asked about everything from human transmutation to soul bonding to Mustang's flame alchemy to the Philosopher's Stone. He didn't even know who these guys were, but they were definitely bad.

Today they came in equipped differently from normal. Tucker II was carrying none of the usual sedative drugs, but a single opaque yellow bottle and a pair of sinister-looking scissors that gleamed in the light from the lanterns they brought. As well as a needle. They used needles as much as possible because they knew he hated them. Screw these guys for knowing what he hated. Scar II had a weird screwdriver-ish "weapon" that looked more like a tool than anything else. He thought it looked familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint from where he knew it. And Void hadn't come in with anything at all - in fact, all he did was smirk and go to sit in a chair to the side of the room.

Ed looked at Tucker and Scar II, who were both whispering in hushed voices. Tucker set the bottle and syringe on the table and pointed to the scissors, earning a nod from Scar. Then they both turned to Ed.

"Tell me, Fullmetal," Tucker said (Ed cringed, because he hated being reminded of Roy every time that was said), "do you know what is in this bottle?"

He shook his head, though his face was still defiant.

Tucker laughed maniacally. "Well, I guess we'll just show you." He nodded toward Scar, who grabbed Ed's automail arm and held it to the side of the chair - not that it was needed, as they had bashed the automail beyond repair and he couldn't even move his fingers anymore. Only his shoulder, a tiny bit, right where the nerves were connected to the automail. "You see..."

He dipped the syringe in and filled it with the liquid inside - it was red. Ed gasped and jerked around in his chair. There was no way.

There was absolutely no freaking way they had Philosopher's Stone liquid here. No way in any sort of world.

"I see you know what it is," Tucker II said in his deep Tuckery voice. "This is indeed the Philosopher's Stone. But you see, we've been warned of the events that would happen if we inject it, so we needed a test subject - a guinea pig, as it were. And you'd do perfectly."

Scar II laughed, tightening his grip on Ed's automail. If he coul feel that arm he'd be screaming bloody murder by now.

Tucker then set the syringe down, but Ed didn't lower his guard. "First, however, we need to test you - see your limits, if you'll survive being injected or not. We can't waste our precious Stone. That's where he and I come in - we're going to test our test subject."

Ed studied the tool in Scar II's hand. He still couldn't remember where he knew it from - but they'd explain to him, wouldn't they?

"I see the look in your eyes," Scar said, grinning. "You want an explanation. But I think we'll just show you."

He lifted the device and brought it close to the upper arm of Ed's automail.

The tool and the automail being so close together finally gave him a reminder - Winry. Winry had used this to fix his automail a couple times. Speaking of Winry, was she and Al missing him? He thought they should have found him by now.

Back to the present, he told himself. Be strong. And whatever you do, don't bow down to them.

Scar II cackled in much the same way as Tucker II and then shoved the end of the tool down into the crack between two metal plates. When he added pressure, the main plate of his upper arm popped right off, landing neatly in Tucker's hands.

"Excellent craftsmanship," he noted. "But it doesn't matter, really, does it? Because we'll be taking it apart now."

Scar pulled another three or four layers of plates off until he reached the final one. Ed had finally caught on to what they were doing. Tucker came forward with the scissors. Ed breathed in and out, willing himself not to panic. But internally his brain was total chaos except a corner of logic.

"Aaaand... there we go," Scar said, grinning crazily as he stared at the neat bunch of Ed's nerves lying in plain sight to the light.

Ed breathed heavily, trying to direct his attention away from his automail. Focus on the cuts they gave you on your arms yesterday, he told himself. Or whenever it was. So he tried to focus on his other arm, ad it worked. For about a second.

He felt it before it even came. The metal scissors closed in on his nerves, the gap between their blades closing rapidly, and he jerked his arm as far to the side as it would go - and then the tips of the edges managed to snag a single nerve and sever it from the automail.

He tried to scream at first - but he shut his mouth and told himself sternly he wouldn't. He would try really, really really hard not to.

Tucker tutted and gave the metal scissors a few snips at the air. "My. Feisty, are we? We'll have to hurry, then."

Ed closed his eyes tightly and braced himself for the pain. He felt a burst of pain, white-hot fire racing up and down from his shoulder to his head to his other arm and down his body before going back to the source. They did it twice, so he could only see spots behind his eyes, before it happened.

Snip for the fourth time, and he screamed. Or tried to, anyways.

No sound came out of his mouth - his voice wouldn't work after so long and under the conditions - but his eyes snapped open and his expression turned somehow even more pained than before. He was pretty sure if he did scream, though, it would be so high-pitched it wouldn't be within the human range of hearing. Once his mouth closed and he started breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his ears and pain blossoming from his shoulder, Tucker and Scar and Void laughed maniacally. For the third time, in Tucker's case.

Tucker continued snipping at Ed's nerves. Two after the first scream, he slumped into his chair and lost control of his body as it shook all over, throbbing and hurting and generally he felt like a piece of crap. He didn't know where he was or why, he just knew it hurt. A lot. When was the last time he hurt like this? The only time he could remember was when they tried the transmutation.

After that, the only reactions Ed could give to his torturers were small jerks of involuntary shuddering or something along the lines. He was slipping in and out of consciousness and somewhere else, his mind was going fuzzy and gray, and he was only brought back by the stabbing and horrible pains of his nerves being literally snipped out of function.

Then he heard the voice, through the pain and the ringing and the laughter, the voice he never thought he'd be less happy to hear. He was always happy when he heard the voice, because it meant he was saved, but at this point, even he didn't think he was worth saving. But he listened to the voice anyways. It was pained and surprise and shocked and scared at once.

"Brother!"

He slipped back into the gray. When he finally remembered the pain and jolted into an extremely hazy reality, he was off the chair and in the arms of someone who was warm.

Warmth felt good after the pain, even if the person didn't look at all like Ed remembered. Gone were the smirk and the air of I-have-a-god-complex, instead a look of worry and surprise.

Ed smiled bitterly, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. He tasted copper. He saw gray and hazy. He couldn't really think straight. But he knew Roy Mustang and Alphonse when he saw them.

"Brother! Hang in there! We're gonna get you out of here!"

He was vaguely aware of the three men being beaten pulps on the floor. He just saw Roy and Al. And the gray, which was turning into white. He could hear his heart in his ears, and it sounded like it was getting further away each time it beat. And slower. Was he supposed to be scared of that?

"Fullmetal, hold on. We'll.. do something productive, hopefully."

He cringed at the Fullmetal, then laughed. It was hoarse and pained, but it was a genuinely sad and bitter laugh.

"Don't... bother with me, Mustang. I'm... not really worth saving anymore."

Al gasped and finally noticed how much blood was running out of Ed's automail side. And who wouldn't be, when their nerves were just sliced a lot?

The gray came back, but this time it was very close to white. And when he came back from it, there was a part of it left, standing just in his field of blurry vision. It was a woman, lined in white. His mother.

He looked at Al, knowing he just said something but not really bothering to care. But, he supposed, he deserved one last thing before he died. Something that the two had never said aloud that was way past due at this point.

"I love you... Al... See ya."

He blinked, but he didn't remember ever opening them. The next thing he saw was white, and then after that...

There was nothing. Just the glorious white stretching forever.

In the real world, Roy and Al sat in a dark room under Amestris wanting to cry.

"I love you too... Brother."

 **I didn't put a tissues warning in there - ah, well. If you needed them you shoulda come prepared.**

 **So yeah, this is the last chapter of this work. I might come back and publish more chapters if I get an idea, but I'll mark it as complete from now on. See you all around the site! Love you all! See ya!**


End file.
